Invasion of Mind
by LuvEwan
Summary: Obi-Wan believes he is turning when plagued by dark thoughts.


Title: Invasion of Mind

Author: LuvEwan

Rating: PG-13

Age: 17

Category: Angst

Summary: Obi-Wan believes he is turning when plagued by dark thoughts.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke.

At first, he lay still, willing his mind to settle back into unconsciousness. But he knew it wouldn't happen. Once roused, it was difficult for him to sink down to sleep again. Already the soft cushion of his bed was proving uncomfortable, and a faint ache thrummed at his temples.

He rose and swept away the sheets. Despite the scant moments of sentience, he wasn't groggy in the least and padded from his quarters into the main room. 

The young man studied the empty space briefly, rubbing at his eyes. This was his favorite area of the entire Temple, he decided, bare feet sinking into the carpet. Qui-Gon was asleep in his own room, but his aura was always heavy here.

__

Perhaps that is why I like it so much.

Smiling, he wandered onto the balcony. The cold night air assailed his naked chest, rippled his thin sleep pants. His padawan braid whipped behind his shoulder. He looked out at the distance. The view was unrelieved skyscrapers, few lights illuminating the black from tiny square windows, enough to cast a weak light on his face.

He turned slightly when the Force alerted him of another presence. 

Qui-Gon was leaning against the doorframe, hair mussed from sleep, the gleam in his eyes as gentle as the early morning mood. He walked up beside his apprentice, but said nothing. Their gazes turned in unison to the white pinpricks littering the dark sky.

A sudden heat flared in Obi-Wan, and he frowned. His vision clouded; he blinked repeatedly to clear it. His cheeks flushed fiery red and his hand went to his face. He was surprised at the torridity that met his fingers. Kenobi glanced back at the familiar scenery, and had to stifle a cry.

The buildings were coated in red, the sky painted with striking maroon. Obi-Wan felt the heat intensify, seeming to prickle at his lips and beneath his eyes. He gasped, as though he was being smothered in this terrible new insulation. He realized the red drenching his surroundings was the shade of blood. 

Qui-Gon's eyes flicked over his apprentice. "How about something to eat?" He offered in a soft voice.

Obi-Wan gaped at him, disbelieving. Did he not notice what was happening? He's not alarmed by the blood drowning out the other colors? The _heat_?

"Perhaps some fresh fruit and pastry?" Qui-Gon continued, slapping his back before heading back inside.

His master's touch was an icy shock to his blazing body. Obi-Wan looked back once more at the maroon nightmare, following Jinn numbly through the door

He saw their own apartment was soaked in the blood as well. Obi-Wan rushed forward in some frantic attempt to alert Qui-Gon. His legs were seized by inexplicable weakness, he crumpled to the ground and laid helplessly as the red warmth smothered him.

* * * 

Obi-Wan slowly regained consciousness, again confronted by heat. But now it was generated by an outside force. He craned his neck, and saw Qui-Gon had him propped against his chest, a blanket draped over his shoulders. A cloth was pressed to his nose.

"It's all right, Obi-Wan. It's just a little blood." Qui-Gon helped him stand, and moved to the near-by sofa. 

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be led, still reeling. _Just a little blood. It was---everywhere!_ He sat, and Qui-Gon drew the cloth away. Obi-Wan saw that a stream of blood was actually dribbling from his nostrils. Qui-Gon replaced the cloth, letting it staunch the flow.

The apprentice swallowed hard, his hands shaking. Absently, he took over, and Qui-Gon sat back. Concern was evident in his wrinkled brow. "How do you feel?"

"I'm…fine." Obi-Wan offered a very small smile, too shaken up to profess _anything _strongly. He couldn't get over the confusion on his master's face, the fact Qui-Gon hadn't so much as glimpsed the horrors Obi-Wan had seen. He had the fleeting idea he'd been dreaming, but dismissed it. This was far too real. Besides, how often did you feel actual pain in a dream?

That was what he experienced now; throbbing hurt in his nose that was bringing a mist to his eyes. Qui-Gon sensed that much at least, squeezing his arm in response to the pain spreading along the indestructible link that was their bond.

"Do you want me to summon the heal---"

"That's not necessary, master." Obi-Wan shook his head carefully. "I think I just need---need something to eat."

Conflict flashed momentarily in the blue orbs. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, master."

Jinn lingered, hesitant, then walked into the small kitchen.

Obi-Wan remained nearly paralyzed. The first streams of daylight sliced through the drapes, and lit up the apartment with pale orange.

This calmed him, as the Coruscant sun made its entrance known, settling on his exposed shoulders. 

__

Quit being so stupid. You're scaring master, not to mention yourself_!_

He shed the blanket, along with his disquiet from the odd events, and set off to aid Qui-Gon in preparing the morning meal.

* * *

Obi-Wan had forgotten about the incident as the day wore on, busied with teaching a sabre class with Qui-Gon. He had been excited about the opportunity for months, and the reaction of the initiates was more than satisfying. It sort of gave him an idea of how it was being a master, seeing the first trace of understanding don a young student, leaving someone with knowledge to better themselves. Of course, Qui-Gon was the main instructor, but Obi-Wan was happy just to be involved.

They were strolling down a walkway when the heat spiked in Obi-Wan again. He stopped dead in his steps, feeling as though he were the only still thing in a spinning world. Obi-Wan grasped his head as the fire in him intensified, far beyond the temperature from this morning. He staggered to a ramp for support. He looked down at the lower level.

Some masters and padawans were standing in small circles, talking. Obi-Wan could only stand by as they abruptly collapsed to the floor, blood spilling from them. Their ragged, surprised screams pounded in his ears.

__

Their screams are like music, let it flow around me. It is what I want. 

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. Those were _his_ thoughts! They had been borne from _his_ mind!

"No." He whispered. "Stop it." He could barely breathe now, every inhalation choked by his dismay and disgust. He heard Qui-Gon distantly, aware he was shaking him with those icy, icy hands. 

Then the heat blistered beneath his eyes and at his lips. Obi-Wan cried out. His master's coldness was welcomed, and this time he turned around and gripped the arms.

The frigid touch extinguished the blaze, silenced the tortured wails from below. Obi-Wan locked his gaze with his master's.

"Obi-Wan?" Alarm tightened Qui-Gon's tone.

Obi-Wan dropped his hold on his master, leaning on the ramp with a wobbling arm. His eyes were wide."I'm okay, master. Just…tired."

Qui-Gon's lips set in a thin line. "Your nose is bleeding."

Obi-Wan's hand met his nose, where red was trickling from it again. He couldn't help the shiver that followed.

Qui-Gon put his arm around his padawan's shoulders. "I think we should go to the healers, padawan. Something is wrong."

Obi-Wan sniffled, and the blood rattled in his nose. "I'm okay."

Qui-Gon studied him critically. "You don't look okay, Obi-Wan." He saw the weariness in the youthful eyes, and knew he was going to give in. He emitted a heavy sigh. "All right. Let's get back to the apartment and stop that bleeding. Tomorrow we have a short mission to the Tellis sector."

Tellis was an area in the lower levels of Coruscant. Poverty was rampant, employment was scarce, and crime was always rising. "The Tellis sector?"

Qui-Gon nodded, removing a tissue from an inner layer of his tunic and using it to absorb the blood. "There is a very old pottery mill that the government wants shut down to be revamped, and turned into a historical site. The problem is that the mill is responsible for a number of jobs. The workers are trying to keep it open."

Obi-Wan fell silent. He couldn't focus on the details of their assignment. His heart was racing in his chest. _I can't believe what I was thinking. I didn't want those masters and padawans to DIE!_

What's wrong with me???

* * *

Obi-Wan sat on his bed, quaking slightly. Qui-Gon had cleaned him up and ordered him to bed. 

But Obi-Wan was afraid to sleep. If he was having these visions while awake, what would happen when he slept, when he had even less of a reign on his thoughts?

* * *  
Obi-Wan stood up. He walked into the main room, awake but not fully conscious of what he was doing. He keyed the exit code and the door slid open. Obi-Wan entered the Temple hallway dimly lit be glow rods.

__

Go down to the library.

Obi-Wan wiped at his forehead, where sweat glistened from his body's extreme temperature. He made it to the lift, but before he could press the button Mace Windu walked up beside him.

"Padawan Kenobi? What has you out this early?"

Obi-Wan clenched his hands into fists and didn't even glance at him. "I…couldn't sleep."

He spoke casually enough, but something in his tone seemed off to Mace. His manner was different, as he didn't bow or show any respect whatsoever to the elder council member. "Where are you headed?"

"The gardens." He lied, looking over at Windu. In Obi-Wan's twisted vision, the man's smooth, dark face was fleshless and covered in a messy mask of blood.

__

He deserves it. Everyone here deserves it.

Since Kenobi was turned away, Mace did not see the brief glint of red that flashed over the young protégé's eyes.

* * *

Qui-Gon walked into the kitchen, letting his padawan rest a bit later. He couldn't feel much of his presence through the Force, so he assumed the younger Jedi was sleeping deeply. That was the only thing he could think of that would be responsible for the fuzzy end of the bond he shared with Kenobi, why he detected only a dim sense of him.

Obi-Wan's nosebleeds yesterday worried him, but he would let it drop if it didn't happen again. Obi-Wan was getting older, and could handle his own health matters.

__

I won't let myself fret about it anymore.

The doorbell buzzed, sending his thoughts jumbling. He hastened to answer it.

Mace was standing before him.

"Good morning, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon smiled, puzzled. "Mace? Is something wrong?" It was edging toward daybreak, but the Temple was largely asleep.

"I was returning from a mission, and saw Obi-Wan in the hall."

Qui-Gon frowned. "I didn't know he had left. What was he doing?"

"He said he was going down to the gardens because he couldn't sleep. Have you, uh, noticed any changes in him recently?"

"I think he was feeling a bit ill yesterday, and I sent him to bed early." Jinn tensed. "Why?"

"Nothing really. I wanted to be sure he was all right before you went to the Tellis sector today."

Qui-Gon bowed. "Thank you for your concern."

Jinn watched Windu leave. He was confused by the short visit, and waited at the doorway for his apprentice to return.

* * *

Obi-Wan rested on a bench in the gardens. _Why did that stupid Master have to be there?_ He observed a small insect struggling up a tiny hill.

Smiling, he stomped the helpless creature, smashing his boot down. Hard.

* * *

Qui-Gon finally saw Obi-Wan approaching. The young man caught sight of him and grinned. "Hi, master."

"What were you doing, padawan?"

"Just sitting in the gardens."

"Oh." Qui-Gon nodded, studying his apprentice. "Next time you have problems sleeping, let me know. I'd like to join you. The gardens are especially enjoyable in morning."

Obi-Wan stepped inside the apartment. "I will, master." Without warning, inexplicable pain lanced through him, and he had to suppress a groan. "I-I'm going to take a quick shower." He walked briskly across the room, then closed himself in the bathroom, doubling over. He bit down on his lip. Blood was leaking from his nose, and he groped for a washrag. Then he sat there, pressing it against the gushing fluid, trembling. Once it was under control, Obi-Wan threw off his sleep clothes, entered the shower, and huddled under the cool jets of water.

__

What was I doing? Why are those…evil thoughts invading my mind?

Sprays of pleasantly cold moisture formed droplets on his bare body. He bent his head back, drenching the short ginger hair, running his hand through the slick strands. He fingered his padawan braid.

__

I should cut this off right now.

Obi-Wan shut off the shower with a smoldering hand.

__

I should cut this off now and go down to the library. Get the information on the Jedi---to destroy them.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and strode to the mirror. In his reflection, he saw red haze his eyes. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a razor. He took it against his braid…but stopped. 

__

Not yet. Wait.

* * *

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan opted to walk to the Trellis sector. The master knew some fresh air would be beneficial to his troubled apprentice.

Obi-Wan was mostly silent. He hadn't traveled to this level before, yet seemed disinterested with the new surroundings. His focus remained forward.

Qui-Gon was used to Obi-Wan's solemn attitude concerning missions, and decided to strike up a conversation. "What do you think should be done in this case, padawan?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."

His flippant words surprised Jinn. He stopped. "What is that supposed to mean?" Qui-Gon's tone was a harsh reprimand in itself.

"What does _anything _matter when you think about it, master?"

Qui-Gon was speechless. He didn't know how to respond to that.

* * *

The mill was crowded with giant, old machinery and countless workers. The air was thick with debris.

The Jedi had protective masks strapped over their noses and mouths. They had been asked to inspect the pottery mill so that when they cast their vote on behalf of the Temple, they were well-informed.

The manager of the mill, an elderly man, showed them around, hobbling beside the two with a mask pressed to his face.

"It looks unkempt, but I run a very orderly mill." He explained, choking a bit.

"I'm sure you do." Qui-Gon said, distracted by his apprentice. Obi-Wan was scanning the massive area with that same heavy-lidded, indifferent gaze.

Then, a loud explosion erupted in the background. Qui-Gon wheeled around. A machine had apparently malfunctioned. Pieces of pottery were spitting out of an opening. Vases shattered on the stone ground. Workers scrambled to save what they could.

Jinn took off running, Kenobi close behind. The master tried to aid them while calming the frenzied crowd. Obi-Wan stood away from them with his arms lax at his sides. Sharp fragments of plaster were strewn at his feet.

__

Sharp enough to cut with. His mind supplied.

Obi-Wan crouched and chose a large shard. It was cold in his heated palm.

__

Cut. Cut the despicable Jedi down.

He looked at Qui-Gon's broad back. He was about to comply when something broke through the flames consuming his thoughts.

__

Stop. You're crazy! He screamed at himself, and scraped the ragged edge across his wrist, then flung it away. Obi-Wan welcomed the searing pain, a self-inflicted punishment._ I deserve it._

He was able to halt the stream of blood from his nose before Qui-Gon noticed anything at all.

* * *

A few hours later, they were rushing back to the Temple to teach another class, requested by the Council after the popularity of their first.

Qui-Gon couldn't see the fresh wound marring Obi-Wan's wrist. The long tunic sleeves concealed it well.

They raced down the corridor. Obi-Wan was secretly amused. His master was never late! He'd remember to tease him about it later.

Qui-Gon sensed this, turning slightly toward his apprentice. "This isn't funny." But a small smile tugged at his lips.

The twenty or so initiates were seated on the shiny floor, waiting patiently.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan took long strides to the center of the room. They bowed to the younger Jedi.

"Sorry for our late arrival." Jinn apologized.

A few giggles rose from the children.

Qui-Gon smiled. "Today, we are going to begin with a duel. Since we are quite familiar with each other's moves, it will be a challenge to gain victory."

They shook out of their robes and activated their sabres.

Their eyes locked, their glowing blades clashed.

Qui-Gon dove into an attack he and his apprentice had previously practiced so to display some simple, vital moves to their young audience. Obi-Wan took the defensive, deflecting his master's onslaught of blows. 

The children studied them, some with faint smiles on their faces. Awe and respect emanated from the impressionable students.

Obi-Wan was blocking another strike when heat burned at his temples. He tried to fight it, now experienced enough to realize in advance what would happen. Qui-Gon continued the offensive, and Obi-Wan did his best to combat them both. But whatever it was that had infected his mind, it had soaked deeper than ever. 

__

Here is my chance. Change my moves. Land a killing hit.

They were only training sabres, Obi-Wan knew, but it was good practice, and would still give the master quite a bad burn.

A smile crept to his lips. He launched into an unpredictable, wild assault.

Qui-Gon was startled. He managed to elude his apprentice's weapon with quick movements. _What is he doing?_

Obi-Wan battled with furious energy, the conflagration swelling in him fully. He grit his teeth and cursed Jinn for recognizing some of his techniques.

Then, from nowhere, he set in motion new attacks, his body moving without his command. The fire, the evil, was in charge.

Qui-Gon breathed raggedly. _Where did these come from?_ It was like battling a foreign enemy, unfamiliar with everything. _Not with my own apprentice!_

The children sensed the battle's bad turn. Even with their limited knowledge, the Force alerted them to Obi-Wan's change. His moves were harsh and risky. Nothing taught within the walls of the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan pushed Qui-Gon back, toward a corner. Qui-Gon fought to keep from being closed in, actually fearing what his padawan would do. Here, in the midst of a ferocious duel, there was no way to stop him. 

Obi-Wan wasn't thinking, and didn't need to. His goal was secured, his blows effective. Finally, he had Qui-Gon trapped.

He gripped the lightsabre hilt. _Do it. Do it._ His mind chanted.

__

DO IT. Do it in hate.

His sword came down, toward Jinn's neck, but Obi-Wan pulled away at the last second. His weapon clattered to the floor. Blood spurt from his nose.

Qui-Gon forgot about the wide eyes of the children witnessing it all, let his lightsabre fall from his shaking fingers, and hurried to Obi-Wan.

Before he reached him, the drained Kenobi passed out. The heat was so intense he thought he was suffocating.

Qui-Gon heard the gasps faint in the background as he knelt beside his apprentice. Obi-Wan's face was bathed in sweat, and when he touched his cheek, it was unbelievably warm. The blood still ran freely.

He swept Obi-Wan into his arms and ran to the healing ward.

* * *

Qui-Gon laid the limp body on a bed while Healer Caton held a soft wad of cotton to Obi-Wan's nose.

"How many did you say he has had?"

"Three since yesterday morning." Qui-Gon said. "This one is the worst."

The older man nodded, his gentle hand resting on Obi-Wan's forehead. His eyes closed as he searched for any other injuries. "I don't detect real harm."

"Why do they keep happening?" The master asked in a slightly strained voice. His worry was evident.

"Since this is his only symptom, I believe it has something to do with stress. Some suffer from headache or loss of sleep, but nosebleeds are also attributed. It could account for his changes during the drill today. He was letting something out."

Qui-Gon nodded, and his gaze drifted to his resting charge. "What can I do to help it?"

The healer stroked his chin thoughtfully. "A vacation, perhaps. Just a short break for him to relax. A couple of days, maybe."

Qui-Gon shook his hand. "Thank you." He glanced at Obi-Wan before heading to the Council chambers.

* * *

Qui-Gon returned to Obi-Wan's side after requesting four days leave to a near-by planet. The younger Jedi was still asleep. Jinn was glad of it. Already he was alleviating his extreme stress by resting his body and mind. He smoothed the sweaty hair.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened slowly.

Qui-Gon squeezed his hand. "Obi-Wan?"

The apprentice yawned and rubbed at his face. 

Qui-Gon waited a moment for him to gather himself before speaking. "We have four days of vacation, padawan. We're leaving as soon as you feel ready."

"Where are we going?" He tried to inject excitement in his voice.

"Well, my apprentice, I hope you enjoy surprises."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes with a smile. "Tell me now, master."

"Now where would the fun be in that?" Qui-Gon clapped his shoulder. "I'll go pack our things while you get some more rest."

Obi-Wan grabbed his master's wrist before he could leave. "Thanks."

"Padawan, your hand is awfully warm."

Obi-Wan laughed uneasily. "Now you'll think I have a fever and leave me here while you go on vacation."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Don't give me any ideas."

The door swooshed shut behind him.

Obi-Wan slouched on his pillow. _Four days off-planet. How will I get the information on the Order now?_

He slid out of bed and strolled into the office area. He saw a young girl studying a data pad, seated behind a desk. _Good. Only a receptionist._ Obi-Wan walked up to her.

"Hi." He smiled.

"Good afternoon." She set down the pad and folded her hands. "Do you need Healer Caton, Padawan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan continued smiling, a disarming expression. "No. I'm leaving with my master in a couple of minutes, but I forgot something back in the training arena. Could I go retrieve it? I'll come right back."

She looked uncertain. "Did Healer Caton say you were well enough?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Um, okay. Just be careful, because of your injury and all."

"Thank you for your concern." Obi-Wan said kindly, and headed for the library.

* * *

Obi-Wan slid the disk into the computer. The glare from the screen cast a white glow on his face. 

__

I know what I have to do. The heat coursed through his veins. _Bring the information to him…_

* * *

Darth Sidious laced his fingers together. 

"Is the Jedi going to deliver the disk?" Maul asked in his soft voice.

"I'm not sure." Sidious croaked. "The implantation should wear down his mind's defenses. Only a matter of days now." A smirk touched his withered, cracked lips.

A week before, the dark master had seen a Jedi student on the streets of Coruscant, probably carrying out a small mission or errand. He aimed a blaster-type weapon, containing a chip that would manipulate the Jedi's thoughts according to Sidious's whim, which shot out an invisible ray. It had hit his oblivious target. "Any day now."

* * *

Qui-Gon sat at the controls of their small ship. Obi-Wan sat their packs in the main room and wandered around. He felt the disk against his chest, secure in a pocket of his tunic. This break was the worst thing that could have possibly happened. 

__

Now how can I give him the information?! Furious heat pounded in him. He didn't know who 'he' was, but knew where to go. A little voice in his head whispered it to him. And it wasn't to the ridiculous little planet they were bound for. Obi-Wan rested on a couch and closed his eyes. He realized he was very weary. As he dozed off he felt the rumbling of the ship as it took off. Frustration needled his forehead, but the exhausting day overtook him. Even in unconsciousness, the fiery evil licked at his insides, his mind.

* * *

Qui-Gon walked into the room with a trace of a smile. "Already getting caught up on your sleep?" He surveyed his padawan, stretched out on the sofa, an arm and leg hanging off the edge. His mouth was slightly open.

Qui-Gon slipped the boots off and hunted for a blanket. He found a heavy quilt, settling it over Obi-Wan before helping him into a more comfortable position. 

There was a brief stirring beneath Obi-Wan's eyelids, his lashes fluttering. "Mmmph." He mumbled.

Qui-Gon laughed softly and smoothed the spiky hair back. "I know you're tired." He whispered. "You deserve the rest."

* * *

There weren't dreams when he was possessed of the evil. Never. Just hot darkness. The evil couldn't use him then, for some reason, but lingered at the surface.

He felt an icy intrusion that plunged into the black warmth, sending it to shatters.

Obi-Wan gasped, sitting upright. He was breathing in hectic pants and sweat poured off him. This had been the longest time he was under the control of his evil mind, having been consumed during the teaching session. Blood rolled down to his upper lip.

__

I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't able to fight it… Absently he wiped his arm across the streak of red, nose aching from more damage. _I never stopped it. It was Qui-Gon…he must have the power to halt the madness._

Fear and anger trembled in him. "It's my mind." He said aloud. "W-Why am I losing control of it?"

__

And why can my master stop it? Is it his physical or mental touch? Or simply his essence that unknowingly combats the evil in me?

The evil…in ME?

I'm evil? Obi-Wan clasped his hands together, yet they still quaked. The cool surface of the disk against his chest rose gooseflesh on his skin. "I'm evil."

__

And if I don't get out of here, I'm going to hurt my master. His heart contracted painfully at the thought. He couldn't imagine even trying to live without Qui-Gon Jinn. _But if I leave, how will I ever manage this? If I go far from him, I could lose the only link to sanity…to goodness._

I could be smothered by all the evil… But I can't risk dragging master into it, too. 

The tears ran unhindered down his cheeks. _I have to get out of here._

* * *

Qui-Gon served a rather extravagant evening meal…Extravagant by Jedi standards, anyway.

The ceramic dishes were a nice change from the plastic, sectioned trays in the Temple cafeteria. And the food was fresh, streaming. He had obviously spent time and thought preparing it. There were juicy cuts of meat slathered in spicy sauce, various vegetables, fruits, and a strange side dish Obi-Wan didn't recognize.

At the table, Obi-Wan could barely contain his sorrow. He watched Qui-Gon, whose contentment was almost palpable. And, because he wanted his master to be happy, even if only for a short while more, Obi-Wan ate with enthusiasm. He guzzled glass after glass of the freshly squeezed juice and asked for seconds of everything.

Qui-Gon chuckled as he passed the vegetables. "I better not cook like this every day we're on vacation, or you'll never want to go home!"

Obi-Wan grinned, and hoped his master didn't see the sorrow in his eyes. _My home is with you…I'll always want to go home._ He muffled a sob by stuffing a spoonful of meat into his mouth.

By the time Obi-Wan couldn't force another bite, the table was almost empty. Qui-Gon talked casually while cleaning up, about the pleasant weather they'd have on the planet and how relaxing it all would be.

Obi-Wan stared at him, leaning his elbows on the table with his fists supporting his chin. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, just he and Qui-Gon, safe from the evil.

__

But I am the evil. I can never be safe from myself.

"Perhaps we should meditate before landing. We have a few hours." Qui-Gon offered.

Obi-Wan's stomach lurched. _Mediation? What if the evil comes over me then? He'll know…_ "Actually master, I think I'll go back to sleep. All that great food made me tired."

"That's okay. We'll have plenty of time for meditation later." Qui-Gon touched his shoulder. "Rest well, padawan."

"Thank you, master."

* * *

Obi-Wan was walking down the hall to his quarters when faint heat burned at his temples. _No. Not yet._ He ran desperately, past his room, and into Qui-Gon's. Jinn was asleep on his bed. Kenobi crawled beside him and took his hand.

__

Please. He begged himself, his own evil. _Stop._

Qui-Gon woke. "Obi-Wan?" His brow wrinkled. "Are you all right?"

The master's bright Force zapped the invading darkness, and Obi-Wan released the large hand. "Oh, master, I…"

"Have a stomach ache?" Qui-Gon finished.

"Yes." Obi-Wan lied, nodding, backing off the bed. 

"You don't have to go. I don't want you alone when you're feeling sick."

Obi-Wan hesitantly climbed back up and laid his head on the empty pillow beside Qui-Gon's. The older Jedi fell back asleep soon after. Obi-Wan couldn't seem to close his eyes. Tomorrow would be the end…And the beginning of a worse, uncertain existence without the love and stability of his master. He listened to the quiet breaths in the silence, hating being surrounded by black. All too soon it would be all he had.

More moisture stung his eyes, and he shut them. He felt Qui-Gon's hand rest on his back, liked the comfort and assurance, but knew it was all bittersweet.

"Sleep now." 

Obi-Wan had to obey.

* * *

Qui-Gon awakened and saw that sometime during the night Obi-Wan had rolled right up beside him. The apprentice's cheek was pressed against his arm. Qui-Gon smiled, gently easing him onto his own pillow and stood.

He studied Obi-Wan's face. _When did he grow up?_ Jinn wondered. His boyish features nearly melded into the maturity and experience. He traced the hairline with his fingers, then allowed them to slip through the short ginger mane. _How much longer can I do this?_ The unsettling muse confronted him, reminding him that his apprentice was getting older everyday. Learning, improving…He would be a splendid knight. But only when Qui-Gon was ready to let go. _Don't fool yourself Jinn, you'll never be ready. He's ingrained into your soul---_

Qui-Gon abruptly pulled away. _----so much that I couldn't let go?_ A little overwhelmed by these reflections, he went to the cockpit to wait for the planet to come into view.

* * *

Obi-Wan sat up. He had slept surprisingly well, but suspected Qui-Gon's presence had something to do with that. He scratched his chest with a yawn. His nails raked over the disk. He pulled it out, grateful it hadn't been discovered by his master, and looked at it contemptuously._ I have to get rid of this…Before the bad comes back, and I can't stop myself. _Obi-Wan flung the blanket off and hurried into the lavatory. He pitched the cursed thing into the garbage bin and sighed, as if it had been a heavy weight relieved from his shoulders. But he knew he could never be free.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Obi-Wan appeared in the cockpit doorway. His hair was tousled, eyes bleary, tunic a rumpled mess. He walked over to Qui-Gon's chair while scrubbing at his face.

"Just a minute or two. We're setting down now."

The terrible anticipation rose in Obi-Wan's throat like sour vomit. He swallowed and laid his hand on his master's shoulder. The heat was approaching, throbbing under his eyes, and he would have to leave. The evil had strengthened. This time, bereft of Qui-Gon's glorious influence, Obi-Wan would be defeated.

* * *  
The planet was tropical, with lush, green trees and glittering lakes scattered over the sandy earth. Qui-Gon landed the ship in an expanse of blossoms. "This place looks refreshing. I think a nice swim is in order." He said cheerily.

The heat was extreme now. He wouldn't have reign on his mind in a few minutes. _It has to be now._ "Master, do you mind if I go on a short walk, um, by myself? I just need to…think. It's been a stressful week."

"Of course you can, padawan." Qui-Gon replied. "These days belong to each of us. You can do as you wish."

Obi-Wan bowed. "Thank you, my master." Emotion wavered his voice. He couldn't bear to look into those blue eyes. If he did, it would make it too hard. He went for the door.

"Padawan?"

He didn't turn around. He was shaking. "Yes?"

"Be careful."

__

Oh force! "I-I will, master." As soon as the door closed, Obi-Wan sprinted. He was far into the tangles of plants before the red passed over his tear-welled eyes. The tiny ship was no longer in sight.

* * *

Qui-Gon had to admit he was disappointed that Obi-Wan wanted to explore the new planet by himself. He had been looking forward to a gradual discovering of what it had to offer, side by side with his apprentice. Instead he was sitting in the main room, waiting for him to return, nearly two hours later.

__

He shifted uncomfortably. _Two hours is quite a long time…Maybe he's lost._

The stubborn man in him told him to stay put, but Obi-Wan had helped drive that out years ago. He set off in search of his padawan.

* * *

Obi-Wan reached the cliff. He had spotted it in the distance, and knew it was perfect.

__

I failed. The information is gone, and I can't find my way back now. I failed…The Jedi will thrive, the dark outcasts, Sith, will remain huddled in the corners, too few to make their presence known.

The young man, miserably hot, looked down. The lake couldn't be too deep. The fall would definitely fulfill its purpose.

__

I want to die for what I have done. The evil whispered, somewhere near the core of his mind. He ground his feet into the rocky edge, and closed his eyes.

__

This won't be like the mill. This time, it will be over. I'll pay.

Obi-Wan jumped off the cliff.

* * *

Qui-Gon stumbled. The pain through their bond was faint, something was blocking their connection, but he still felt it. _Obi-Wan._

At least now he could follow the small sense of him. _Hold on, padawan. I'm coming._

He ran through the mess of vines, swiping at obstacle with his sabre. The presence grew more firm, until at last he caught sight of his padawan.

Obi-Wan was floating face down in a small lake. 

"Obi-Wan!" He screamed, tearing to him, calling out his name repeatedly. Qui-Gon rushed into the shallow waters and grabbed the still body. He pulled him onto the sand. He noticed blood clouded the once clear waves.

Obi-Wan's chest was motionless. His lips were blue, face gray.

"No." He tipped the head back and forced air into the cold mouth. Then he pumped his chest, again and again. "Come on!" He yelled.

There wasn't a response.

Qui-Gon gave him another mouthful of air, trying to keep calm. Panic could be deadly right now.

After the tenth series of pumps, he was meeting his lips to Obi-Wan's when he heard a cough. It was a weak sputter, but it proved his padawan was alive.

Immediately, he sat him upright, patted his back and murmured wordless comforts.

Obi-Wan coughed again, and this time water spilled from his mouth. His next inhale was sharp, but before long he was breathing evenly.

Qui-Gon turned him around. Blood oozed from a large gash on his forehead. Cuts marred his skin. His eyes were opened to slits.

Red slits.

"Obi-Wan?" _There must be blood in his eyes._ "Padawan, tell me you're okay."

"Master…" Obi-Wan choked.

Qui-Gon swept a dripping strand from his forehead. "Obi-Wan, can you see?" The red was still coating the normally blue orbs.

"Master…please help me…I---I'm losing myself…" The plea was a weak sound barely audible. "I can't…"

Qui-Gon laid him against his chest again, rocking them both absently. "Hold on to me and the Force, padawan."

But Obi-Wan didn't hear him. The evil was furious, and he suddenly knew. Knew that it wasn't a part of him. It hadn't been his voice, soft and silky, telling him to do those despicable things. Something –someone- was trying to take him over from the inside…

Eat away his goodness and sanity, use him. 

__

Use me to get the information.

He was distantly aware that he hurt. His head felt tight and his entire body throbbed.

__

Use me to destroy the Jedi.

The evil could still win…No.

I have to fight it.

Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath, and delved deeply into his own mind. With what little strength he still possessed, the Jedi apprentice began to combat what meant to destroy him, and everything he cared about.

* * *

Qui-Gon carefully gathered Obi-Wan in his arms. The injured man had drifted into unconsciousness with little drops of blood falling from his nose. Jinn first reaction was to staunch it, but he needed to get him to the ship.

The trek back took far too long. Obi-Wan's body was horribly limp. Qui-Gon hugged him close, protecting him from the dangerous thorn vines. The exotic plants he had thought gorgeous minutes before were now nuisances, tripping him up and slowing him down.

__

Hold on, my padawan. I'll help you.

* * *

Obi-Wan met the angry screams of the evil with steady resistance. He tore at the demon presence. 

Then, he felt something else enter his mind. Trying to soothe him…

__

NO! He cried out. _Qui-Gon! He can't know!_

Obi-Wan hastily stopped his fight in order to erect shields from his thoughts.

It was long enough for the evil to crush him, to seize him with dark, hot hands, and completely smother the light.

* * *

Qui-Gon set him down on his bed. "Obi-Wan, don't block me out. I need to help you. You wanted me to."

Obi-Wan remained unmoving. His battered body looked small and sickly.

Qui-Gon sat beside him and brushed his forehead with the back of his hand. Heat met his fingers. "You already have a fever?" He groped for composure, but clutched at fear instead. _He's so warm…_

He quickly stripped him of his tunic and belt. As he was pulling off the leathery boots, Obi-Wan stirred.

Qui-Gon placed the bare feet back on the bed and returned to his place. "Obi-Wan?" He held a tepid hand in his. "Padawan, come on. Wake up."

* * *

Maul stood at the doorway. Darth Sidious was in mediation position, eyes closed. He was smiling.

The dark apprentice risked speech. "Do you have him?"

Sidious turned slightly. "Yes. He was too weak to fight it anymore. And his master can't ward it off now. Not as deep as I am. But the little padawan has disposed of the information."

"Oh." Disappointed, Maul bowed his head. "What will you do with him now?"

"Kill him." The simple words held strong maliciousness. "But, of course, make him suffer. Leave the Jedi with a staggering loss."

Maul grinned.

* * *

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Qui-Gon was holding him, an arm taut around his body, rubbing a damp sponge across his back.

__

What an idiot. I just fall in water, and he's giving me a bath.

Qui-Gon noticed the change, stopping and wrapping a towel around the bare chest. "You'll be all right. You had a concussion and some traumatized ribs. Plus a lot of bruises and cuts. I had to clean them before infection could set in. You had me very worried."

__

Ohhh. I'm so very sorry.

He hated his weakness, hated every moment he lay helpless, not having any choice but to tolerate the detestable man's company.

Qui-Gon rested him on a stack of pillows. "What happened, padawan?"

The title made Obi-Wan want to wretch. He tried to conjure up a story, but was too tired to put forth the effort. "I was killing myself."

Qui-Gon's face registered shock and disbelief. "What?" 

"I was killing myself. I jumped off the cliff on purpose." He explained plainly. "I was almost dead before *you * came."

"O-Obi-Wan, why were you---"

"Because I HATE you. You and this big, stupid order. Full of mindless creatures too lazy to think for themselves and rely on old, dusty rubbish to do it for them."

Qui-Gon could hardly comprehend. "Obi-Wan what are you talking ab---"

"Just shut up!" He shouted.

And then Qui-Gon slapped him. Hard on the cheek.

Obi-Wan wasn't phased. "Never use violence, do you _master_?" He mocked. "Unless someone is wounding your pride. Does that make it all right to strike your sick, injured apprentice?"

Qui-Gon couldn't stand hearing the vile words from Obi-Wan's sweet mouth. He slapped him again. He didn't want explanations. He wanted him to be quiet. "Stop it!"

Obi-Wan launched at him. A guttural cry ripped from his throat. "I hate you!"

Qui-Gon toppled to the ground, Obi-Wan's smaller form on top of him. Obi-Wan threw punches at him, flinging his fists blindly.

Qui-Gon was socked twice in the stomach before he could throw Kenobi off. He crawled over to him frantically, knowing the blow would leave the student dazed.

But Obi-Wan recovered fast. He charged at his master with a scream.

It sounded almost inhuman. Qui-Gon would never have imagined his own padawan could make a noise like that, a ragged, angry bellow.

Obi-Wan wrestled the older man, growling, consumed with heat. He was weakening, but wouldn't submit to Qui-Gon.

Jinn felt Obi-Wan's nails scrape across his chest, shredding a strip of tunic away. He fell onto his back. Obi-Wan was instantly on him, scratching, punching, yelling and biting.

Qui-Gon couldn't hold back any longer. He had to stop him, before he hurt himself badly. The master grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to his stomach.

Obi-Wan squirmed. "Get off of me!" He cried.

Qui-Gon pressed the cheek to the floor, boring down on him with the Force.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened. Obi-Wan's mind was pure darkness and seething hot energy. Evil.

Obi-Wan bucked, and caught the devastated master off guard. 

Qui-Gon let go for only a moment, then seized him, holding him to his chest.

"No!" Obi-Wan squirmed.

Qui-Gon knew the boy was drained. He had too many injuries to go on. Obi-Wan couldn't fight him. He picked him up and headed down the hall.

"I'll kill you!" Kenobi screamed while kicking his legs.

Qui-Gon nearly dropped him, but managed to get to his bedroom. He got his pack and rummaged for the med-kit.

Obi-Wan labored to free himself. He pulled at the muscular arms, nearly sobbing. He understood he had depleted all his strength, and wasn't going anywhere.

Qui-Gon found the hypo of sedative, and submerged it into Obi-Wan's fleshy thigh.

He heard Obi-Wan gasp, felt him go gradually slack until finally his body went limp.

Qui-Gon took a breath. _It has to be the concussion._ But the excuse collapsed when he remembered entering Obi-Wan's mind, and discovering a chasm of evil and black. 

__

Has Obi-Wan turned?

* * *

Obi-Wan woke. His mind was fuzzy, everything he saw had vibrating edges. He moved to scratch his head, and felt a bandage. Come to think of it, he did have a headache.

He yawned into his pillow. Cold drool was pooled where his mouth had been. _I must have been out of it…_Infuriation pulsed in him. _He knocked me out! That wretched Jedi sedated me!_

Obi-Wan rolled onto his back. He almost screamed in surprise when he saw Qui-Gon was sitting beside him, wide awake. Then his eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

Qui-Gon frowned. He had thought Obi-Wan would be straightened out by now. Of course, the problem was more than a head injury. "You have a bad fever and concussion."

"I don't need you to care of me." He said scornfully.

"When you were asleep you were gripping my tunic and holding my hand. When I let go, you were crying." Qui-Gon revealed in a quiet, indifferent voice.

There was no embarrassment coloring Obi-Wan's cheeks. Just rage. "I was _drugged._ I wasn't thinking right. I wasn't even conscious." He pursed his lips. "But I am now, so get out."

"You seemed very afraid of something. I stayed with you to keep you from crying. It was taking away all the energy you were getting back." Qui-Gon continued as if Obi-Wan hadn't spoken. 

Obi-Wan sat up. The rush made him woozy, but he wouldn't show any more weakness. "You're lying through your crooked teeth." He spat, and disappeared into the lavatory.

He was splashing water on his face when the door swung open. He yelled a curse at Jinn, who was standing in the doorway with his arms folded.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded.

Qui-Gon met the furious gaze, unwavering. "I saw the cut on your wrist. You've tried to kill yourself twice. You've given up the right to privacy. My duty is to protect you." His eyes fell. "Even from yourself."

Obi-Wan felt a weariness burn in his bones. He leaned heavily on the sink. His voice was husky when he spoke. "I'm just washing my face, you moron."

Qui-Gon wouldn't let himself flinch. "Then you won't mind if I simply stand here."

Obi-Wan sealed his eyes briefly and tried to stave off the exhaustion. His hands trembled as they gripped the slick, cold surface. 

Qui-Gon hadn't the ability to sense Obi-Wan anymore, but he could see that the young man was spent. He stepped forward and put his arm across the slumped shoulders. "You're coming back to bed." The master commanded, leading him into the adjoining room.

Obi-Wan violently shrugged out of the hold. "Don't touch me."

Qui-Gon's heart would not withstand backhanding Kenobi again. Not even in the dire situation he was presently in. _I love him too much to harm him. How can I stop this?_

Before he could form an answer, Obi-Wan charged at him. He knocked Jinn to the ground with a loud thud. He was snarling and scratching. A single tear slid down his cheek.

That was something. It told Qui-Gon that the evil hadn't conquered him entirely. He saw the true Obi-Wan gleaming in that bead of moisture. 

Obi-Wan stopped, abused chest heaving. His periphery was dotted with gray and his limbs were heavy. "I…" He rasped. "Hate you."

Qui-Gon watched his apprentice collapse on top of him, unconscious.

* * *

"Why do you leave him alone in his sleep?" Maul wondered.

"It makes it infinitely worse on him. He is aware of what will happen when he wakes, but cannot prevent it. Perhaps he can remember things he has done in consciousness. When he kills his master at last, the guilt will destroy him in sleep. The Jedi Council will take care of him afterwards." He chuckled. "The last Jedi to turn is dead, is he not?"

"Hunted down doggedly by other Jedi."

* * *

Obi-Wan was a stranger now. He roamed his mind like a foreign presence, the paths he had formed as a Jedi obstructed with evil. Memories crowded him. Of tackling Qui-Gon, telling him how much he _hated_ him. Obi-Wan had never even thought of hate in relation to his master! Tears pressed at him, and he knew they could flow freely. He grabbled for Qui-Gon, wanting his touch, but regretting it. As soon as he woke again, the evil would take over. He would be shoved down anew.

He pounded desperately at the walls holding him back. He begged for the darkness, thick around him, to allow him even a moment of clarity and control.

Obi-Wan just wanted to talk to his master. _I could not hate you, Qui-Gon. I would die to tell you so._

He spent a few more hours in this sort of sleep, this torturous imprisonment, fearing when he would wake. Fearing what he would do when his body radiated with heat, and evil used him as its miserable puppet.

* * *

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan to the main room, settling him on the sofa and covering him with a blanket. As soon as he drew away, the apprentice moaned. Qui-Gon looked at the features, tight from distress, and bit down on his lip. He sat a chair beside the sofa and rested there, gripping Obi-Wan's hand in his, and digging for his communicator.

* * *

"Master Qui-Gon it is?" Yoda gargled knowingly. 

"Yes, master Yoda. I---I have much to report."

"Not on mission you were, Qui-Gon. Vacation." The ancient alien corrected.

"I know this, master. But, terrible circumstances have prompted me to. My apprentice---Obi-Wan, he…he-"

"Calm yourself, you will, and explain all in rationality." Yoda advised, his voice soft and compassionate.

And Qui-Gon explained everything. He told of Obi-Wan's fall, his waking, and the ensuing madness. When he was finished, the wizened master was silent a moment, gathering his thoughts and letting the disturbing news sink in.

"Ill, young Kenobi must be. Return immediately, you will. Well in the mind, he cannot be."

Qui-Gon had hoped his mentor and trusted friend would provide something profound and comforting, a childish wish born of pure apprehension. "Thank you, Master Yoda." He switched off the device, set it aside, and took Obi-Wan's other hand. He brushed his lips across the knuckles, the Force lacing his tender, fatherly touch.

He studied the purpled patches on his apprentice's skin, from self-inflicted violence, and from Qui-Gon himself. And the soft cheek, tinged faint red from Jinn's slaps.

"Oh." He closed his eyes, overcome. "What is happening, my young padawan?"

* * *

Mace Windu strode down the hall, his dark eyes intent. His shaved brown head gleamed in the Temple's artificial light. He reached his destination: the healing ward. He entered, confronted by a medicinal stench, and the sounds of quiet sobbing.

Concerned, he trotted toward it. He rounded a corner, and saw a healer padawan being comforted by a senior healer. She caught sight of Mace, and looked up, face streaked with tears.

"What is wrong?" He asked.

The older of the two physicians stepped forward and bowed. "Master Windu, my apprentice is disturbed by something that occurred a few days ago, concerning Padawan Kenobi."

"He is why I am here. May I question what transpired?" He addressed the apprentice healer kindly.

She nodded, scrubbing at her eyes. "Padawan Kenobi was here, just before leaving with Master Jinn on their break. He was suffering from persistent bloody noses, and I was assigned to him. I was told by my master he was not to leave his room, because he needed a great deal of rest." She sniffled. "And after he and Master Jinn were gone, Padawan Kenobi came out to the desk and said he had to go to the training hall for a minute. There seemed something very off about him. He looked sick and… dreamy. He just kept smiling."

Mace frowned.

"I don't know him well, and I brushed it off. I let him go, and didn't mention anything to anyone. Now look what has happened!" She broke down into sobs again. 

Mace touched her shoulder. "You said he needed to go to the training hall?"

"Yes."

"The training hall was locked. After he passed out, we asked the docents to clear it out just to be safe. I went to make sure myself. Padawan Kenobi never went back to the training hall."

The fellow master's brow furrowed. "Where did he go then? My student tells me he was very bent on getting there."

Mace nodded. "Obviously, he went _somewhere_." He crossed his arms. "Thank you for your help." He journeyed farther down the corridor, to Obi-Wan's room. Taking a steady breath, he opened the door.

* * *

Qui-Gon turned, seeing Mace and offering a very weak, sad smile. "Hello." He was standing a few inches from his padawan's bed, fingers twined to the unconscious young man's. 

"Good afternoon, Qui-Gon." He squeezed the shoulder, noticing the uncharacteristic slump in the strong man's posture. Whatever was going on was already taking a heavy toll on Qui-Gon Jinn.

Obi-Wan was asleep on a hospital bed, hooked to various machines that recorded brain activity and other functions. He looked a little battered, and Mace shuddered, recalling what Yoda had told him of Obi-Wan's suicide attempt and aggression toward Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a talented student, gifted with patience, intelligence, and depths of compassion nearly as incredible as Jinn's. He was revered by the initiates as an example of a perfect apprentice, as they saw Qui-Gon as a perfect master.

They had never witnessed the two in this dreaded state, one crazed and encumbered by numerous tubes, the other in quiet shock. It was enough to drive Windu's gaze away, to the doctor reviewing Kenobi's chart.

The healer set his lips in a thin line and walked over to Qui-Gon. "He is fine physically. The fall scraped him up, but the concussion was handled well and I foresee no permanent damage. And it couldn't be responsible for the dramatic changes in him mentally. He would not begin to lash out as you described, or express hate. If anything, it would have left him slow and unresponsive."

Qui-Gon's eyes flicked over the still form on the bed, then returned to the healer's. "Then what _is_ responsible? My padawan was fine before he fell."

The healer appeared troubled at the statement. "Perhaps you did not sense it, but there was definitely something wrong with him before, Master Jinn. He tried to kill himself."

"Because he said he hated me. And the Jedi." Qui-Gon murmured to himself. "Can I take him home?"

"I have recommended he be placed in a different ward of the hospital. He is dangerous in this condition. He could hurt you again, or someone else. Himself."

Qui-Gon's hand absently tightened around Obi-Wan's. "You want him to be admitted into the mental ward." It was not a question.

"Yes, that would be best for now. I want to try him on some medication, perhaps it could help his mind. I could not reach it, so I can't say the true state of it right now. There was something locked around it. Mental shields?" He wondered.

"He never shields from me." Qui-Gon answered confidently. 

"Well, have you been able to reach his mind, then?"

Qui-Gon's eyes dropped to the floor. "No."

"I'll be down the hall if you need me." The healer gave Mace a passing nod, then left.

Qui-Gon practically collapsed into a chair. Mace took the seat adjacent to him. "Qui-Gon, are you all right?"

Jinn shook his head. There was a weariness in his movements as he laid his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. "They had to knock him out with drugs. He was trying to attack me. He was even going to take on the healers helping me get him here. I don't want him sedated again. I want them to let me handle him. Maybe---Maybe I can get through to him if he's awake and not bombarded by people with syringes."

"What if he hurts you? Are you willing to defend yourself against him?"

"I won't hurt him, and I won't let him get violent, either. I'm older, but I'm stronger." Qui-Gon was disgusted at how he had to speak of Obi-Wan now, like some mad enemy. "I'll do what I must to get him back."

Mace was reluctant to question him further, but it was unavoidable. "Right before you left on vacation, a healer padawan said Obi-Wan convinced her to let him out to go back to the training hall. He said he needed to pick something up."

Qui-Gon shook his head, eyes on his resting apprentice. "No. He didn't forget anything. All we had were our sabres."

Mace nodded. "I know he didn't go there, since I had it temporary locked up following the incident. Do you know where he may have gone?"

Qui-Gon shut his eyes and delved deep into his memory of those recent days. He thought of having to watch Obi-Wan in the lavatory, and a speck of black he saw in the wastebasket. He inspected it when Obi-Wan was asleep, and found it was a discarded disk. Then, Kenobi had stirred, and he had forgotten about it, packed in his survival bag.

He related this information to Mace, who sat back and considered it. "Do you have it with you?"

Qui-Gon turned and grabbed his bag, thrown to the side sometime during the struggle to get Obi-Wan stable. He fished around until he felt the disk. He handed it over to the council member. "It has to be Obi-Wan's. The ships are always cleaned between trips."

"I'll go over it and come back." Mace stood, then lingered. His friend looked stricken, eyes far away, gleaming with grief. He was almost afraid to leave him. "You---You'll be all right on your own?"

Qui-Gon rubbed his finger along the side of Obi-Wan's face. "I'm not alone."

Mace reluctantly walked out the door.

Qui-Gon bowed his head. _I just feel alone. Utterly alone._

* * *

Obi-Wan knew he was being forced into unconsciousness, that he had done something horrible to prompt it. He was glad to be in this state, though, where the evil was nothing more than light tendrils that couldn't touch him. Yet it was here that he had to deal with the pain.

He didn't know quite how, but he had betrayed many. The Jedi, the council---Qui-Gon. He had been an easy target, Obi-Wan supposed, for the evil. Now he was stuck between himself and the person he had become, unable to stop it, but bear the emotional consequences. He was not a Jedi, not a Sith. Only truly awake when asleep.

But above all, he missed his master. Here, he was just so alone.

* * *

Mace slid the disk in the computer and waited for the contents to pop up on the screen. His stomach was roiling. He had studied the fine Jedi art of patience, but the minute it took for the information to download was agonizing.

Mace peered at the screen. There were several files. He touched the first one, and it blinked before displaying a new series of documents.

He covered his gaping mouth with a dark hand. Vital, secret files on the Jedi, from birth places and original names to security information. Things that no student, or master for that matter, should have access to.

__

What was he going to do with all this?!

* * *

Qui-Gon prepared himself for the worst, seeing that Obi-Wan was coming around at last. He was partially relieved, but mostly worried. He could already sense the anger building in the rousing man. The hand lying in his stiffened, the nails digging into Qui-Gon's skin.

Qui-Gon calmly set Obi-Wan's hand on the bed. He wouldn't start things out bad. He needed to be the reasonable one. "Are you feeling better, padawan?" His voice was carefully casual.

Obi-Wan immediately tore at the tubes attached to him.

"Don't do that." Qui-Gon reprimanded. "Those are there for a reason."

"What? Are you poisoning me?" He accused in an acid tone. "I'm not sick, so why are they there?"

"You _are_ sick, Obi-Wan."

"Not as much as you stupid Jedi are." He countered. "You didn't torture me enough for ten years, you had to bring me back from death just so you could try to force more of your idiotic clap trap down my throat?"

"Our time together has been torture for you?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.

"No. My life's goal has always been to be overshadowed by a moronic, self-righteous man that would rather spout senseless mantras that give a single compliment."

Qui-Gon had convinced himself this wasn't Obi-Wan. But to hear such allegations, beating with real hatred, made his heart ache. "Have you always despised me?"

"Yes." The answer was clipped and passionless. "I wish you, and all the imbeciles in this ridiculous order, would die. Or at least let me die."

Qui-Gon fought the despair that sprung at him. The apprentice was talking now. That was something. He was opening his mouth to continue the conversation when the door slid open.

Mace Windu stood, clutching the disk. 

* * *

"Qui-Gon, could I speak with you in private?"

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan uncertainly, then met Windu at the door.

"There are thousands of files detailing the Jedi. Things that would be valuable to adversaries." Mace revealed. "The disk is full of them."

Jinn was dumfounded. "What---"

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was flying off the bed in a flurry of arms and legs, toward Windu.

Qui-Gon blocked the council member from his frenzied apprentice, pushing Obi-Wan to the ground with brute strength.

"He wants the disk!" Qui-Gon shouted, so that he could be heard over Obi-Wan's incoherent screams. "You have to get it out of here!"

Obi-Wan scrambled after him, but Qui-Gon caught him around the waist and pulled him into his lap.

"I'll kill you!" Obi-Wan screeched, clawing at his master.

Qui-Gon grasped his upper arms and held him down.

Mace dashed into the hall and yelled for assistance. A healer rushed into the room, armed with a hypo-spray of tranquilizer.

"No!" Qui-Gon stopped him before the needle made contact with Obi-Wan's neck.

The sharpness of the command made the healer take a step back. "He needs to be sedate---"

"No. Just let me take care of him. I can settle him down."

As if to prove him spectacularly wrong, Obi-Wan bucked again, scratching deep cuts along Qui-Gon's arm.

The healer moved forward with the syringe.

"It's all right." Jinn said, nearly complacently. "He'll settle down."

"Just the same, we're moving him to the mental ward right now. He could have seriously harmed Master Windu."

Qui-Gon could not argue with that. "Okay. As soon as he calms, he can be moved."

"I'll make the arrangements now." The healer shot him a disapproving look, then exited.

Obi-Wan was incredibly warm, the master noticed. He was still thrusting about, set on freeing himself. Qui-Gon swallowed, permitting the bruises and lacerations his apprentice dealt him, if it would tire him out enough. 

Obi-Wan grunted. Perspiration glowed on his skin. "Let me go, master."

Qui-Gon's grip almost loosened. That single title on the tail of the sentence reminded him of his old Obi-Wan. He prayed that _was_ a drop of his Obi-Wan leaking through. "I can't do that, padawan."

"Will you kill me then, you filthy Jedi?!" He roared.

Qui-Gon held him firmer, closer. "You know the answer to that. Now settle down and I'll let you walk to your new room."

"I-I don't need a room." Obi-Wan ground out between clenched teeth.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to get the hell out of here, idiot."

Qui-Gon's grip tightened. "I won't raise my hand against you, but I will not tolerate such language from you. Ever."

"What can you do? You're an old man. That doesn't make you strong. It makes you _weak_."

The word was spoke slowly, with an obvious pleasure. Jinn had heard it that way before, in Xanatos's wretched, persuasive voice. He detected a similar evil now. But Xanatos had a soul corrupted beyond help. His light had been too fragile, the dark too alluring and natural. He could sense the good in Obi-Wan still, beneath the malicious heat sizzling at the surface. He _wouldn't_ give up on him.

Then, after contemplation that had lasted a mere heartbeat, he replied. "Does evil make you strong?" The thin body was shaking from exhaustion. The fight had sucked up Obi-Wan's meager strength. "Wise?"

"I am wiser now than when I was an obedient little padawan, following your word, without a mind of my own." He spat. "I no longer foolishly believe all I am told. And that gives me power."

Qui-Gon shook his head, frustration and sorrow welling inside him. "This isn't you, Obi-Wan. You're not like this. You never gave me a single doubt---"

"That I would help redeem your precious reputation?"

Qui-Gon swallowed. "No. That you would grow into a spectacular knight."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "So I could erase peoples' memories of Xanatos? That was always hanging above me, like a black cloud I could never break through. It was your failure, but I suffered for it."

He felt a pang in his chest. Jinn knew these were Obi-Wan's true feelings seeping through, mixing with the anger and evil. This was real hurt.

"Don't tell me you never had doubts." Kenobi was fuming. "You weren't going to take me back after Melida/Dann. You thought I would turn, or something. Turn? Because I stayed on a war-ridden planet to help suffering _children_?"

"I didn't think you would turn, padawan. I just thought you weren't dedicated enough."

"To the Order…or to you? I was always loyal to both. And how do you both repay me? Send me to the agri-corps, put me second to some sightless---"

"Stop." Qui-Gon commanded. "Do not say anything hurtful about Tahl."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "See? She has always been more important to you."

"Stop."

"Or you'll slap me again?" He began to pry at Qui-Gon's fingers once more. "I was on trial for murder, and you would rather be with Tahl. Well, she's dead now, so get over it. Cerasi died, and I was never given months to grieve."

Qui-Gon's voice bordered on a whisper. "It was different."

"Why? Because it was you hurting? I don't care. I'm glad she's dead. One less Jedi to have to deal with."

Qui-Gon's lips trembled. He wanted to strike at Obi-Wan, silence the awful rants. But he wouldn't meet negativity and violence with negativity and violence. He had to be calm for Obi-Wan. The young apprentice had to be able to get this off his chest. Maybe it could ease his anger.

But then Obi-Wan was silent. He wasn't trying to escape anymore, merely sitting with eyes half open. Qui-Gon was afraid that if he moved he would jumpstart the wild behavior again. So he didn't say another word, and Obi-Wan fell asleep in a rigid, upright position, as though leaning against Jinn would be accepting his presence and intervention. That thought brought stinging tears to his eyes.

* * *

Obi-Wan almost could have smiled. He had forced himself into unconsciousness, though it had taken his all to do so. It was impossible to combat the evil effectively when it was in control.

In other words, when he was awake.

Now he had a very small grasp of order, and would hold onto it. He would take his time, and break down the barriers that kept him from ruling his own body and mind.

* * *

Qui-Gon didn't like this room. It was like being in an entirely different world: muted white walls, padded flooring. He did not believe Obi-Wan should be placed in here because he had one outburst.

__

But it wasn't one outburst. He's been trying to harm anyone he sees since the fall. You know it. And you know he belongs here now.

Qui-Gon's hands balled into fists. How could he think that? This was Obi-Wan, for Force's sake! His well-mannered padawan, who could send his master into hysteric laughter with a funny face one moment, and engage in intelligent debate with a planet ruler the next. The same young man that had opened his heart, and warmed his soul, armed with nothing save his earnestness and charm.

Obi-Wan was lying in a fetal position, in a very fitful slumber.

Qui-Gon bent down and touched the loosely curled fingers, a tiny smile on his rugged, unshaven face. He remembered stroking these fingers, after he and his protégé were lost in a snowstorm, and returned to their temporary residence chilled to the bone. These fingers were chapped, and Qui-Gon spent tense minutes trying to thaw them out. Obi-Wan had remained stoically silence, though the severe cold had to have been uncomfortable.

__

That was his padawan. Not this irate person, either savagely enraged or exhausted. He brushed his hand across Obi-Wan's cheek. How familiar he looked! The unchanged, handsome features, oblivious to the enormous transformations he had undergone. And yet, his mind was a distant thing, something he was an outsider to. Their intimate mental connection was gone. He sorely missed the deep bond.

Of course, he had attempted to penetrate the seals surrounding the mind, but was conquered by the fierce, thick darkness.

Everything was so surreal. It was getting harder to breathe, when gazing at his poor student. _How can we go on like this?!_

At that moment, a knock came at the door. Qui-Gon turned from Obi-Wan and stood. "Come in."

Mace stepped inside. His eyes were expressive of his compassion and sadness. "Is Obi-Wan all right?"

"He's sleeping on his own. I'm sorry about what happened. I hadn't really thought of the disk. So much has happened in such a short time…"

Mace held up a hand. "I know, friend. But Obi-Wan was trying to pass on information to someone. We have to know who."

"He won't tell us."

"We have to try, at least, Qui-Gon." He studied the melancholy gleam of Qui-Gon's eyes, and sighed. "I know you're in shock, but Obi-Wan could have made us vulnerable."

"This isn't Obi-Wan, Mace. I'm convinced of this. He wouldn't do anything he has done in the past few days if he was sound of mind."

Mace glanced at Obi-Wan. "How can you have this faith in him?"

"He's been by my side every day, I've raised him. I know he would never do this, Mace. If I doubt him, I'm not much of a master. I'm not much of a friend."

The council member shook his head. "You can't be his friend right now. You have to look at it at the level we do. You have to consider things you wouldn't want to. It is in Obi-Wan's best interest."

Qui-Gon sighed in defeat. "What should I be considering, then?"

"That the fall is not the cause of his erratic behavior. That something else is responsible. Perhaps…he is even the cause. If so, he will have to pay the consequences of his actions."

Qui-Gon's heart was pounding. "What sort of consequences?" Aggravation and tired fear was present in both manner and speech, his shoulders in a seemingly permanent sag. 

"Probation would be likely. And because he has threatened the safety of thousands of Jedi, the punishment would be more severe. He…could be banished from the Order."

Qui-Gon had to lean on the wall for support. That was the harshest blow yet. "He wouldn't be able to support himself! Not in this state!" His tone was a bit sharper than he liked to get with any council member. But this was his apprentice, and he didn't bother with apologies.

"That would not be our concern, Qui-Gon. He would be an enemy, a criminal-"

"A criminal? Mace, how can you think that?! By speaking the words, you are betraying two members of your own Order!"

"By not agreeing with them, you are betraying everyone in the Order, Qui-Gon." Mace countered. Tone steady, he was not intimidated by the furious man.

"How can you honestly believe that he is willingly executing any of this?!" He shouted. When Mace didn't answer, Qui-Gon wheeled around. "Get out."

He heard the door slid shut. Qui-Gon sunk to the floor in a sort of daze. All the events came back in dizzying speed.

He thought of Obi-Wan's accusations in the examining room. The old pain in his voice and face. Qui-Gon recalled this, and wanted to die from the staggering guilt. He had been the reason for his padawan's emotional agony.

If any person had caused Obi-Wan's down spiral, it was Qui-Gon.

He would never abandon him to please the council.

* * *

Six Days Later…

Qui-Gon sat with his back against the walls, knees drawn to his chest, arms folded in rest on them. He knew it was nighttime only because a nurse had peeked her head in, and asked if he would like to retire to his quarters. She came every night, asking, to which he replied: "Thank you, but I am fine here."

He was filled with infinite sadness when he thought of those who were confined inside these walls. Not permitted to gaze upon the darkened skies of Coruscant, or watch the rays of the sun warm the city-planet. Nobody deserved that lacking. 

Especially his apprentice.

More depressed from the thought, Qui-Gon closed his eyes. His arm ached where Obi-Wan had most recently sprung on him, with ferocious intent and flailing limbs. The scratches were so ragged that a bruise framed them, and Qui-Gon's sleeve was torn to the elbow. It was the worst attack yet, but the violence could no longer shock him.

Mace Windu never returned to the hospital after the confrontation concerning Obi-Wan's future. Bant had visited a few days before, staying a strained ten minutes. She was not accustomed to her old friend's new demeanor, and her wide eyes brimmed with tears, despite her age and maturity. Obi-Wan screamed for her to leave, calling her a 'stupid Jedi'.

Qui-Gon rushed to hold him down, but Kenobi didn't act as though he was ready to assault. 

"_Just get out of here, you stupid Jedi!"_

There was obvious anger in his shaking voice, and Qui-Gon thought, some desperation. Obi-Wan cared very much for Bant. Perhaps the evil in him had not fully killed his affections. Somewhere inside, Obi-Wan was ashamed of his behavior.

So Qui-Gon was actually thankful for Bant's brief company, though it had hurt her immensely. He had glimpsed vulnerability in his hardened apprentice.

His eyes drifted to that young man, asleep in a shivering ball. His tunic was dirty and rumpled, his padawan braid disheveled. Qui-Gon smiled ruefully. _He always kept it so neat…_ He wiped a trickle of moisture chasing down his cheek.

He found himself thinking of Xanatos. The subtle changes he underwent until finally a twisted tool of evil and greed. Qui-Gon was aware his former apprentice had roots of it that originated from corrupt family, only needing time for the roots to grow. Jinn wondered if _he_ had nourished that growth.

__

After all, your second apprentice in a row _is turning…There must be something wrong with you…_

His heart rebelled at the words. _Obi-Wan was –is- good! I never sensed dark within him. It can't be---_

Obi-Wan is not like Xanatos.

He will never turn.

* * *

"How much longer will you let him last?"

"Not much. He is trying to fight me."

Maul frowned. "Is that possible?"

Sidious chuckled humorlessly. "As long as one is living, one can fight."

* * *

Qui-Gon shrugged out of his cloak and draped it over Obi-Wan.

The younger Jedi stirred, moaning, reaching a hand out blindly.

Qui-Gon gripped the hand and sent light Force waves through the touch.

This time, the energy did not bounce off of the darkness. It was absorbed!

He gasped, delighted and fueled by the tiny success. Qui-Gon gathered more Force, trembling to his core, and directed it to his apprentice. He had to wait, without much patience, for a reply.

* * *

Obi-Wan would not allow himself a moment's celebration after his master's Force attempt reached him. He grabbed onto it, feeling himself instantly strengthen. Obi-Wan was jubilant at the accomplishment, yet scared the commotion would wake him up.

__

I'm doing it! I'm wearing down the darkness!

Obi-Wan set back to work fighting his wicked oppressor. 

* * *

Sidious cringed.

Maul turned toward him. A slight movement, so as not to upset the calm. "What is it?"

"The master's Force got through. Blast. I can't wait. He has to die now."

* * *

Obi-Wan was trying to deteriorate the disgusting, web-like walls, that layered his mind thickly, when a more intense heat than ever swept through him.

The message was whispered in his own voice: _I want to kill myself right now._

Obi-Wan could barely contain his revulsion and surprise while hastily throwing up shields to ward off the strong urge the evil pressed at him.

__

No! No!

Qui-Gon was still pouring Force into him, but Obi-Wan couldn't be distracted by it. It deflected off the shields. The evil was bearing down so hard. He had to struggle to keep the dark from penetrating.

__

I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF RIGHT NOW.

The message was harsher, louder. He knew with terrible certainty he couldn't defeat it. Not if he woke, and the darkness had total reign even one more day.

Prayers raced through his thoughts as he drew himself, and the darkness, farther down into the depths of his mind. Where it would be difficult to wake. It wasn't coma, but the closest thing to it. He hoped that if he didn't return, Qui-Gon would remember him as a loving apprentice, and not what he had unwillingly become.

* * *

Qui-Gon was worried. After the initial acceptance of Force, Obi-Wan hadn't answered again. It was now mid-morning, and he was still sleeping. His only movement had been to let loose his grip on Qui-Gon's robe. His jaw was slack, mouth hanging open. His breaths were completely even.

Healer Caton entered, holding a clipboard, and smiling. "Good morning, Master Jinn." He shook his head after taking in Qui-Gon's out-of-sorts appearance. "I don't understand why you insist sleeping in here night after night…"

"This is where Obi-Wan must be." He replied.

"That is right. You're a good master to do it."

Qui-Gon tidied his hair into a braid.. "I'm glad someone thinks so." He muttered under his breath.

Caton looked down at Obi-Wan. "Did he get much rest last night? Or just making up for it now?"

"Actually, he rested very well." His brow furrowed. "I even sent him a few ripples of Force. He took them in, but then, just sort of shut off."

Caton scribbled this update in his notes and grunted. "He's probably far past the point of exhaustion. This is good, then. I think it would be best to leave him to wake on his own."

"How long do you think he'll be out?"

The healer shrugged. "Until he's ready. Maybe early afternoon."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Could he have a blanket and pillow. Some pajamas? I'm sorry for the trouble, but he looks so…"

Caton held up a hand to silence him. "It's all right. I'll request those very things immediately."

Qui-Gon smiled. It would be comforting to see Obi-Wan in clean sleep clothes, in a more civilized situation. He had gone too long without a bed.

* * *

Qui-Gon finished buttoning the soft pajama top and tied off the pants. Then he gently lowered his protégé to a pillow. He smoothed the heavy blanket over him, and stroked his spiky hair. He allowed himself a little smile as he studied Obi-Wan's relaxed features.

__

It's true what they say. Sleep brings out the innocence in everyone.

He traced the rounded jaw, the cleft marking his chin. Qui-Gon bent lower and placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

"Come back to me, Obi-Wan." He whispered.

* * *

Healer Caton stopped outside patient Kenobi's room. This had been his most trying, interesting, devastating case, and he didn't want it to end this way. He, like everyone else, was shocked by the young apprentice's transformations, but made himself focus on the medical aspect. Because his only symptom was prolonged sleep, Caton was sure Obi-Wan wasn't in a coma. His read-outs showed constant mind activity akin to that of dreams. The padawan was simply unconscious.

And, in the healer's opinion, he should be at home. For the time being, anyway. His presence, even in the _almost_ comatose state, was making most of the medical staff uncomfortable. As a rule, Jedi weren't used to violence within the Temple walls. Especially in the hospital ward. 

Resolute, he entered Obi-Wan's room.

Qui-Gon stood. His face looked weary, but eager. "Do you have news."

Caton shook his head. "Not really, Master Jinn. I have looked over your padawan's charts repeatedly, and he isn't in a bad condition physically. So I think you should return him to your quarters for now. Maybe the familiar surroundings will jumpstart him."

A flitter of disappointment passed over his tired eyes. "Maybe they will." He agreed softly.

Caton wished he could offer something more, but Qui-Gon wasn't consolable. He turned, and left.

* * *

Three Days Later…

Qui-Gon poured the dark brown tea, and downed it quickly. He brewed it very strong in attempt to stay awake. At first it was simple. His focus was clear, and his body followed the commands given by his alert mind. Weariness was seeping into his bones, his eyes were barely succeeding in keeping open, and often drifted close. He would always snap back into awareness instantly, and chide himself for being weak. 

The days melded together, and he was beginning to feel the aches of loneliness as well as fatigue.

The apartment was dim. The only light trickled through the closed rapes, a dull glow from the world outside the small quarters. But he didn't really think of the city, teeming with life, beyond this place. He knew it still existed, of course. It was just that he felt very empty. Too much had happened, leaving him spent and uncaring towards almost everything.

The constant silence was tense. Qui-Gon had lived many hours in it, and decided that it wasn't quiet at all. The silence was loud.

He walked back into the darkened room, _Obi-Wan's_ room. Qui-Gon saw the motionless form on the bed. The pale face among the blankets, that never twitched or displayed even the most fragile flicker of life. He tried not to be disconcerted by the fact that Obi-Wn had not changed his position, stirred, since he had first fallen asleep. There were intravenous instruments sending nourishment to his body. 

Qui-Gon had bathed him in rather cold water, to clean him…but more as another method of rousing. He had been filled with ridiculous hope, stemming from his tired misery, but it was promptly dashed. The young man's breathing and heartbeat was not altered.

And then the awful word repeated in his head as a cruel taunt:

__

Coma.

Yes, he had his assurances and medical proof. Caton stressed to Jinn that there was normal brain function. Then what would cause such complete exhaustion? The most Obi-Wan had done was swallow when water was dribbled into his mouth. And that occurred only because it was a natural impulse.

Mace Windu actually visited the day before, his attitude different, softer toward Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was grateful, but couldn't let go what the council member had said before. The words had stung, because he had sensed a phantom of truth in them.

It frightened him to think of the possible consequential aftermath. 

Qui-Gon told Windu bluntly that he should never have suggested Obi-Wan was guilty of the atrocious crime. Even the very inexperienced initiates sensed the apprentice was sick and not in control! Mace responded that although he liked young Kenobi, he had to think of this situation as a Council member, not as a comrade.

__

"How can you be so stern?! Mace, he has no reason to ruin the Jedi!"

The dark-skinned man spoke quietly. "You do not know what he was thinking."

Qui-Gon couldn't hold back the sorrow and irritation in his voice. "Could you_ hear this thoughts, then?"_

It wasn't highly recommended to regard a Council member in that manner. For a brief moment, possible punishments flittered through his mind. But, as with most things now, Qui-Gon didn't care.

* * *

__

"I guess you are a poison, my dear master." Xanatos teased. The wind whipped his black hair back. "When I think of my turn to darkness, I will know it was you who led the way." His eyes seemed to smolder with black fire. "And so will you."

Qui-Gon jerked awake. He wiped at his mouth, then looked around. It was night again. The exhaustion had overpowered him at last.

He sat up in the cushioned armchair and turned to Obi-Wan. He was the same.

Jinn sighed. A sharp hurt twisted at his heart.

__

You are poison, my dear master.

Obi-Wan launched at him. A guttural cry ripped from his throat. "I hate you!"

Maybe it was true. Maybe all the theories and opinions he had established were merely that.

Had he tried to lie to himself, so that he wouldn't need to accept what Obi-Wan did? Was the memory of his former padawan too vivid and painful, that he wouldn't even consider Obi-Wan had crossed over to the evil?

__

Have I blinded myself to what is right?

He thought back to when Obi-Wan first attacked him. He wouldn't fight back, afraid to defend himself against his own apprentice, scared he would harm him. Was that what he was doing now? Being passive, to save himself from ache?

Qui-Gon dropped his head into his hands. He felt warm tears pool in his eyes. He glanced back at Obi-Wan. The very sight of him was devastating. He couldn't endure it anymore.

With a broken sob, he rose and walked out of the room.

* * *

One Day Later

Qui-Gon wiped away the droplets misting his cheeks. He was sitting on the sofa. It was dark once more. And he was still dying inside. His heart was a shriveled pit.

He forced himself up, and went to check on Obi-Wan. 

The master stood beside his protégé's bed only a moment before turning to leave again. Suddenly, he heard a slight rustling. He stopped, but dare not rush back to him. The miracle he imagined was too frail. If he moved, it could break.

So he waited, breath caught in his throat, trembling.

Obi-Wan opened his dry eyes to slits. In the pitch black, he could barely make out the large, familiar form near the door. He swallowed, and gathered his tiny remnants of strength. "Master…"

The rasp was too weak. It couldn't be real. Qui-Gon hands tensed into loose fists.

"Master…please…d-don't leave me in the dark." Kenobi whispered. He struggled to lift his head.

Qui-Gon slowly turned around. In their gazes, the harsh days and separation gleamed, and spilled over as tears. He took gradual steps to Obi-Wan, then sunk onto the bed and folded him into his arms.

Relief and gratitude rushed at Jinn faster than he could accept it. It pulled him toward the maelstrom of emotions, and he clung to Obi-Wan to keep from tumbling in. He wouldn't drown in the lingering doubt and fear. His hand cupped the back of Obi-Wan's head. He pressed his lips against the forehead, which was finally cool. He didn't know his future, nor Obi-Wan's, and wasn't concerned. For now, sweet happiness swelled in him.

* * *

Obi-Wan regained consciousness, but kept his eyes closed. It was more than just weariness. He was afraid. The evil was gone, conquered after an eternity of draining battle. But the memories of its rule over him remained. He had carried out terrible deeds, and put so many in danger. To be here, safe in his own room…He seemed greatly undeserving of it.

And his master? After all he had done, was he even welcomed in this place anymore?

He felt the strong arms around him, as they had been for several hours. Qui-Gon had fallen asleep, too, and the time when they were both resting was perhaps the most peaceful of Obi-Wan's life. It was a glimpse of the tranquility he had lost when the wicked presence intruded. There weren't any questions or allegations. Just the simple truth of a bond left damaged…but alive.

* * *

Maul stayed in the shadowy corner. From the expression on the aging face, he could not tell whether his master had been successful in destroying the Jedi.

Then, abruptly, Sidious broke from his meditative position and stood. He brought his hood up over his eyes. Perhaps to mask disappointment?

"What will we do now, Master?" The apprentice asked, not wanting to inquire outright if the plan had been the failure he privately predicted.

"We will study, and we will wait." The master Sith replied in an even tone. "It is what we have always done." 

End.


End file.
